


the long hard road (to guide me back home)

by pandæmonium (curiocoyote)



Series: Souls!Verse [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, Family, Gen, Homecoming, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reunions, awkward dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:58:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiocoyote/pseuds/pand%C3%A6monium
Summary: Oliver Queen was missing for five years, and he's come back home a changed man. His daemon has resettled, and his family and friends aren't sure what to make of any of it. For Oliver, his home is different than he left it, and he doesn't know how to adapt either.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a retelling of the first episode or two of Arrow. This series will contain more stories with the same characters and premise, as well as later incorporating characters from The Flash and adding in more AU elements. 
> 
> This is primarily a daemon AU. As explained on the His Dark Materials wiki,  
> "Dæmons are the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner-self' that takes the form of an animal. Dæmons have human intelligence, are capable of human speech—regardless of the form they take—and usually behave as though they are independent of their humans. Pre-pubescent children's dæmons can change form voluntarily, almost instantaneously, to become any creature, real or imaginary. During their adolescence a person's dæmon undergoes "settling", an event in which that person's dæmon permanently and involuntarily assumes the form of the animal which the person most resembles in character."
> 
> Oliver's daemon is Bellona, a black jaguar who resettled from a black palm cockatoo.  
> Moira's daemon is Kalerian, a big horn sheep.  
> Thea's daemon is Pythios, an Inca tern.  
> Tommy's daemon is Desi, a dhole.  
> Laurel's daemon is Kazimir, a Southern masked weaver.  
> Digg's daemon is Valla, an Argentine mastiff.  
> Walter's daemon is Stryla, a barred owl.

  
"Twenty percent of his body's covered in scar tissue," Dr. Lamb explained softly, his ball python daemon draped across his shoulders, observing Moira and Kalerian. They stood in the corridor just outside Oliver's room, the smell of disinfectant and sterility almost suffocating.

"There are second degree burns on his back and arms. X-rays show at least 12 fractures that never properly healed," the snake daemon continued, tone clipped and clinical.

"Has he said anything about what happened?" Moira asked, Kalerian standing so close to her side that his shoulder brushed against her with every breath. He was the only thing stopping her from completely breaking down in front of the doctor. What kind of things had happened to her boy?

"No. He's barely said anything," Dr. Lamb replied. He sighed. "Moira, I'd like you to prepare yourself. The Oliver you lost is not the one they found. He- he's resettled. There doesn't appear to be anything wrong with his daemon or their bond, but he wouldn't permit me to examine her or test anything. I just thought I should warn you- her new form is rather.... alarming."

Moira slowly nodded her understanding and clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. People rarely ever resettled, and when they did it was usually because of a major traumatic event. She wanted her son, her Ollie back, not a stranger. But of course she'd love whoever was waiting in that room. Kalerian nudged her forward subtly, and together the woman and the big horn sheep strode slowly forward to the door that Oliver Queen lay beyond.

The door opened almost silently to the scene of a tense, broad-shouldered man with short-cropped hair standing stiffly, facing the window overlooking the city. Moira was glad that Dr. Lamb had warned her, or she would have had a heart attack seeing the huge black jaguar sitting at Oliver's side in place of the loud, playful cockatoo daemon she'd always known.

"Oliver?" she asked, voice hoarse with emotion. He turned, and her heart broke just a little more to see how much darker and more lifeless his eyes were, empty of their usual mischievous spark. There was a long moment of silence, but then a purr erupted from the throat of the black-furred beast beside him and some modicum of light appeared in her son's eyes.

"Mom."

She rushed forward and hugged him fiercely, tears pricking at her eyes. "Oh, my beautiful boy," she murmured as Kalerian approached them, hooves clacking on the smooth floor. Moira and Oliver broke apart, and the big horn sheep butted Oliver's shoulder gently in a rare display of affection. "Welcome home, both of you," Kalerian rumbled, the faintest trace of a smile apparent on his normally inscrutable features.

Moira glanced at Bellona, who gazed back with sharp, unfamiliar golden eyes.

"Glad to be back," the jaguar responded, leaning against Oliver's leg protectively.

 

* * *

 

 

Bellona snarled quietly as the porter began to pick up Oliver's wooden chest. Oliver offered a tight smile as he put his hand on the handle of the chest instead. "I've got it."

Oliver slowly walked up the stairs to the entrance of his home, unfamiliar and familiar all at once. Only his training prevented him from startling visibly when a voice rang out from the entrance hall.

"Oliver!" It was a vaguely familiar man, a barred owl perched on his shoulder, surveying him and Bellona serenely.

"Damn good to see you," the man continued in a distinctive accent. Oliver could recognize him now as someone who had worked with his father- but why was he here, in the house? He seemed very comfortable in his surroundings- not a visitor, then, but someone used to being there. 

"It's Walter," the man said more softly after a few moments of Oliver's silence as his mind attempted to determine his purpose there. Oliver shook the hand that was offered him, while his mind told him that it must be a trap- this stranger meant someone was probably about to get hurt-

Oliver ignored his mother and Walter as he caught sight of Raisa, the familiar, kind figure easing some of his nerves. Without thinking, he brushed past Walter to head straight for Raisa as her monarch butterfly daemon fluttered about her head in his happiness. The woman gasped softly and almost took a half step backwards when she caught sight of Bellona, but her warm smile soon returned as he greeted her, the butterfly settling onto her shoulder.

There was the sound of a door slamming upstairs and Oliver moved over to the base of the stairs, a smile stretching his face even before Thea appeared.

She looked so much older, and Pythios was in a strange form, a seabird flapping at her side, slate-grey with a curl of white feathers on either side of an orange beak. As Thea hurtled down the stairs, the bird flew down beside her and didn't hesitate to land on the floor in front of Bellona, pressing his wing against her foreleg and rubbing his beak through her fur.

Thea hugged him tightly.

"I knew you were alive," she repeated.

 

* * *

 

 

"What did I tell you? Yachts suck."

Oliver smiled, really smiled for the first time in a long time. Bellona began purring like a small jet engine as they turned to face their best friend.

"Tommy Merlyn. And Desi Dholeface."

"Five years and you still won't drop that?" Desi, Tommy's dhole daemon, complained playfully, a broad grin stretching her face and fluffy tail wagging excitedly. She trotted forward to sniff at Bellona, who rasped her broad tongue over the top of the dhole's head affectionately as Oliver embraced his best friend.

"No one will ever drop that," Tommy teased before returning his gaze to Oliver. "I missed you, buddy. And you too, Bellona. I see you got a facelift."

"You could say that," Bellona laughed, swishing her tail back and forth playfully.

She and Oliver exchanged a glance. They were both impossibly glad that Tommy and Desi hadn't changed one bit.

 

* * *

 

 

Bellona lay sprawled on the floor in front of Oliver's chair, his bare feet resting lightly on her side, the sensation of her fur grounding him as he plastered a smile on his face and forced down overseasoned food that made his stomach heave. The staff had made all of his favorite foods, and everyone else around the table seemed to be making an effort to act like everything was normal. He was leaning towards Tommy as his friend attempted to catch him up on pop culture, so glad not to be looking at his face through the scope of a gun or seeing it twisted in fear as he told him that Oliver Queen was dead.

"What was it like?" Thea asked suddenly, her Inca tern Pythios hopping from her shoulder to the table, regarding Oliver carefully with his sharp black eyes.

The room went silent just in time to hear a low, rumbling growl from Bellona beneath the table, even as Oliver kept his smile fixed firmly on his face.

"Cold," he said simply, letting his feet fall to the floor as Bellona sat up and rested her heavy chin on his leg, providing a soothing and familiar pressure. He placed a hand on the soft fur of her head.

"Tomorrow, you and me, we're doing the city," Tommy interrupted.

"You've got a lot to catch up on," Desi added, placing her paws on the edge of the table as she spoke.

"That sounds like a great idea," Moira said.

"Good. Then I was hoping to swing by the office," Oliver said blandly. Everyone around the table looked surprised, their daemons ruffling feathers or twitching their ears.

"Well, there's plenty of time for all that. Queen Consolidated isn't going anywhere," Walter responded cautiously.

Before Oliver could reply, he was distracted by Raisa coming around the table with a bowl of fruit, smiling at him.

When the bowl of pears began to fall, it was pure instinct that caused him to catch it easily, responding to Raisa's apology in a quick flow of Russian, the language familiar to his lips. Raisa's butterfly dæmon rapidly fluttered his wings in surprise, at the same time that the other humans and dæmons around the table betrayed their own shock. Some part of Oliver whispered-  _What are they doing, displaying their emotions so openly? Anyone could take advantage of them so easily- there, a weakness- get past them to an escape route-_ , but he forcefully diverted his attention to what the other occupants of the table were saying.

"I didn't know you took Russian in college, Oliver," Walter remarked with his unfamiliar accent and strange calm, his dæmon regarding Oliver with impassive black eyes.

"I didn't know you wanted to sleep with my mother," Oliver blurted before he could stop himself, his defensive instincts kicking in as usual. Divert attention. Exploit weaknesses. Throw your opponent off balance. Beneath the table, Bellona swatted his leg with a heavy paw, though it was only a gentle reprimand before she sighed and stood up, waiting for Oliver's soon and inevitable exit.

"I... didn't say anything," Thea said after a tense silence.  
  
"She didn't have to," Oliver said honestly. He'd figured it out earlier, accustomed to reading body language and determined to know just why his father's coworker was staying for dinner.

"Oliver...Walter and I are married, and I don't want you to think that either one of us did anything to disrespect your father, " Moira said, leaning forward slightly, sincere, eyes full of pain and an earnest desire for Oliver to understand.

"We both believed that Robert, like you, was, well, gone," Walter said, his barred owl ruffling her feathers in agitation and concern.

"It's fine," Oliver gritted out, the full impact of just how many aspects of his world had changed suddenly hitting him. He gripped the fur atop Bellona's shoulders. "May I be excused?"

 

* * *

 

 

Oliver woke with cold water on his skin and his ears filled with the sounds of rain and wind and hands gripping his shoulders. His mind and the disoriented snarls of Bellona beside him screamed _DANGER_ , and his muscles reacted automatically in seconds, neutralizing the threat until something hit him from the side and he stumbled back, grip broken. He immediately sank into a defensive crouch even as he checked where Bellona was, her dark form pressed low to the ground, ears pinned flat and tail sweeping back and forth wildly across the wet floor as she growled lowly. And then he saw the 'threats'- his mother and Kalerian. She was getting to her feet, one hand at her throat, and Oliver was confused for a split second before he realized what he'd done and his stomach lurched.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he gasped, stumbling backwards to the windowsill, pressing his back against the sharp, wet edge to ground himself with the cold discomfort. Bellona followed with her eyes still wide and pupils blown, stomach close to the floor and fur standing along her back. Kalerian was watching him with hostile eyes, standing protectively in front of Moira, and Oliver realized that the ram had butted him away from her when... when his hands were around his mother's throat. He closed his eyes briefly, clenching his teeth together so tightly they ached, and only opened his eyes again when he felt Bellona's rain-slicked fur and solid weight pressed against his leg, grounding them both. He laid his hand on her shoulders, clutching tightly at the fur there, slightly hunched and breathing raggedly.

Moira stepped forward cautiously, hands held out as if soothing a wild animal, Kalerian advancing beside her, his hooves clacking softly on the floor.

"No, it's okay, Oliver," she said softly. "It's all right, sweetheart. You're home." She swallowed, eyes straying to the still-strange form of Bellona, hunched beside the boy she no longer knew. Oliver could see the uncertainty and lingering fear in her eyes.

"You're home," his mother repeated, and this time he also saw the love in her eyes, and even Kalerian's muscles relaxed a fraction as Oliver let out a long, shuddering breath and slumped to the floor to sit against the wall. Bellona pressed herself against his side, and she seemed calmer now to the point where she spoke for Oliver.

"Thank you." And, a few moments later, "We're sorry."

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a retelling of the first episode or two of Arrow. This series will contain more stories with the same characters and premise, as well as later incorporating characters from The Flash and adding in more AU elements.
> 
> This is primarily a daemon AU. As explained on the His Dark Materials wiki,  
> "Dæmons are the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner-self' that takes the form of an animal. Dæmons have human intelligence, are capable of human speech—regardless of the form they take—and usually behave as though they are independent of their humans. Pre-pubescent children's dæmons can change form voluntarily, almost instantaneously, to become any creature, real or imaginary. During their adolescence a person's dæmon undergoes "settling", an event in which that person's dæmon permanently and involuntarily assumes the form of the animal which the person most resembles in character."
> 
> Oliver's daemon is Bellona, a black jaguar who resettled from a black palm cockatoo.  
> Moira's daemon is Kalerian, a big horn sheep.  
> Thea's daemon is Pythios, an Inca tern.  
> Tommy's daemon is Desi, a dhole.  
> Laurel's daemon is Kazimir, a Southern masked weaver.  
> Digg's daemon is Valla, an Argentine mastiff.  
> Walter's daemon is Stryla, a barred owl.

"Hello, Laurel," Bellona said, starting the conversation because Oliver couldn't bring himself to. Laurel had steel and fire in her eyes when she walked out of the CNRI office, arms folded defensively and Kazimir's wings hunched.

"You went to law school. You said you would," Oliver said, one hand on Bellona's back to ground him.

"Yeah. Everyone's proud," Laurel said shortly. Kazimir clacked his beak.

"Adam Hunt's a heavy hitter. You sure you want to get in the ring with him?" Oliver said, because now that he was here, facing the person he'd been longing to speak to for years, he was regretting his decision to confront her so soon after returning.

"Five years and you want to talk about Adam Hunt?" Kazimir spoke up, his voice sharp and not bothering to hide any of his anger.

"No. Not really," Oliver admitted. Bellona leaned against his leg.

"Why are you here, Ollie?"

"To apologize. It was my fault. I wanted to ask you not to blame her."

"For what? Falling under your spell? How could I possibly blame her for doing the same things that I did?" Laurel was getting more agitated, Kazimir flapping his wings from his perch on her shoulder. Oliver only seemed to grow calmer, retreating backwards into himself, a method he'd learned well in the past five years.

"I never meant to..." He started, but Laurel cut him off before he could continue.

"She was my sister," she snapped, tears gathering in her eyes."I couldn't be angry because she was dead. I couldn't grieve because I was so angry. That's what happens when your sister dies while screwing your boyfriend. We buried an empty coffin...because her body was at the bottom of the ocean where you left her. It should have been you."

Oliver flinched, his fingers curling into the fur at Bellona's shoulders.

"I know that it's too late to say this, but I'm sorry," he said, as sincerely as he could, trying to show her the depth of his sorrow.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too. I'd hoped that you'd rot in hell a whole lot longer than five years." She turned and stalked away, only pausing to hiss a parting shot at the so-far silent bystander. "How did you think that was gonna go, Tommy?"

"About like that," Tommy said resignedly as Desi's ears and tail drooped, the dhole glancing between Laurel and Oliver nervously. After they watched Laurel stride away, Bellona sighed and moved away from Oliver briefly to affectionately bump Desi's side with her head, a silent gesture of both gratitude for bringing them to Laurel and apology for how the interaction went. Desi wagged her tail a little as Tommy smiled at Oliver, his usual brightness beginning to reappear.

"Ok, so we took care of that. Good call," Tommy said briskly, beginning to walk towards their car through an alleyway, Oliver following. Desi and Bellona strolled side-by-side behind them, Desi trotting slightly to keep up with Bellona's long, even strides. "Now we can make up for lost time. If you're not too sick of fish, I suggest we find some leggy models and eat sushi all day. Whattaya say?"

Before Oliver could reply, Bellona growled low in her throat- a warning. Oliver rapidly turned on his heel to see a van approaching them quietly down the wide alley.

"What're they doing?" Tommy said, more confused than scared for the moment. Desi whined softly.

When armed men appeared around the front of the van, it took every ounce of restraint that Oliver possessed to prevent him from either running away or confronting and fighting the men, but he couldn't. Not with Tommy right there. And not with that civilian- shit.

A heartbeat later, the bystander was falling heavily to the ground, his toucan daemon bursting into a thick cloud of golden Dust. Oliver's stomach dropped. Even after witnessing it so many times, the senseless death of an innocent and the shimmering golden particles always made something inside of him break a little more.

And then the men were upon them.

 

* * *

 

 

"So that's your story. A guy in a green hood flew in and single-handedly took out three armed kidnappers. I mean, who is he? Why would he do that?"

Detective Quentin Lance sat across from Oliver and Tommy in the Queen living room, leaning forward and spitting out his words aggressively. Behind him, his massive cape buffalo daemon was calmly surveying both men on the couch and their daemons, as well as the protectively hovering Moira, Kalerian, Walter, and Stryla.

"I don't know," Oliver replied, purposely inserting a touch of arrogant playboy into his tone. It was sure to antagonize Lance and probably distract him from contemplating the story he'd made up too deeply. "Find him and you can ask."

"What about you? You see the hood guy?" Lance asked Tommy, showing him the sketch that Oliver had worked with a sketch artist to make.

"I saw... just movement. Everything blurry. I was kind of out of it," Tommy replied slowly. Desi was laying half on the couch, half on his lap, her ears pinned back against her head as she glanced between Tommy, Lance, and Oliver and Bellona.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Lance said, switching his focus back to Oliver, his words sharp-edged with contempt and bitterness. "One day back, and already somebody's gunning for you. Aren't you popular?"

Bellona twitched her tail restlessly, her muzzle crinkling in the threat of snarl as she leaned heavily against Oliver's leg from where she was seated on the floor. Before she or Oliver could say something, there was an angry huff from Kalerian, and Moira spoke up, her voice cold and steely.

"Were you able to identify the men?"

"Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons. These were pros." Detective Hilton answered instead of Lance. His great dane daemon glanced anxiously from Lance to Moira, clearly wishing to keep things professional and avoid the scorching tension between Lance and the Queens.

"Well, they probably figured you'd pay a king's ransom to get your boy back. Or a Queen's ransom, as it were." Lance said, smiling sardonically. "After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe."

"I don't find your tone appropriate, Detective," Kalerian said sharply, shaking his horns.

Lance's daemon Butch nudged him forcefully with her large nose in a reprimand for crossing over the line of hostility to direct attack. Butch was miles more patient and forgiving than Lance, and her gesture seemed to shock him back into rational thinking, a hint of surprise at his own words appearing on his face. He quickly stood, and Hilton did the same.

"If Oliver can think of anything else, he'll be in touch," Walter said smoothly, his gaze just as unyielding as Moira's. "Thank you, gentlemen, for coming."

Just before he reached the door, Lance turned back.

"Your luck never seems to run out, does it?" Lance said to Oliver, his laugh dry and caustic.

Oliver said nothing, his fists clenching and nails digging into his palms. Below, Bellona's claws sank deep into the carpet.

 

* * *

 

 

"Oliver, I want to introduce you to someone," Moira said, catching Oliver by the arm before he could leave the mansion, Walter by her side. He tried not to visibly tense at the contact and the delaying of his escape to find somewhere where he could think.

"John Diggle. He'll be accompanying you from now on," Moira continued.

Oliver surveyed the man that approached them. The man halted at a respectable distance and crossed his arms, his expression inscrutable. Probably ex-military, based on his posture and body language, plus his choice of career. His daemon was a large, short-haired white dog, as tall as Bellona was at the shoulder. She stood calmly beside him, her dark eyes steadily gazing back at Oliver just as her human was.

"I don't need a babysitter," Oliver said tensely. A low growl rumbled in Bellona's chest, the kind of sound felt more in bones than heard with ears. Moira didn't seem to notice.

"Darling, Oliver's a grown man. And if he doesn't feel he needs armed protection-" Walter said, laying a hand on her arm gently. Oliver felt an unexpected wave of gratitude towards the man, and his hostility towards the stranger who had adopted his home and family lessened slightly.

Moira, however, shook off her husband's words. "I understand, but this is something I need," she told Oliver, her gaze pleading. Oliver sighed inwardly, but nodded. He felt marginally better about the arrangement after the worry in his mother's face lessened and she gave him a grateful smile. In any case, he could ditch the bodyguard once they got into the Glades.

 

* * *

 

The party was loud. Far too loud, far too dark, far too crowded. Oliver had entered the room seconds ago, and already his nerves were frayed and he wanted to get out. The music was too loud to hear anything, but he felt the vibrations of Bellona's growling as her chest pressed against his legs. He smiled grimly and put a hand on her head before beginning to descend the stairs into his welcome-home party, feeling much more like he was walking straight into a battlefield.

After a forcedly jubilant and carefree speech to the mostly drunk crowd, side-by-side with Tommy and Desi, Oliver was more tense than ever. After some conversation about Tommy, in which his friend attempted to tempt him with some women dancing nearby, Bellona stiffened and Oliver quickly followed her gaze to see Thea. Pythios flapped awkwardly on her shoulder, listing to one side, clearly showing that she was either drunk or high. Oliver felt a wave of protective anger run through his body and he barely had the presence of mind to shoot Tommy a quick "back in a minute" before he pushed off through the crowd to his sister.

"Ollie, hey! This party is sick!" Thea said when he pulled her aside, smiling fuzzily. She seems perfectly at ease.

"Who let you in here?" He asked her flatly. She rolled her eyes, like he was the unreasonable one. Like he was the one putting his safety and health on the line for kicks.

"I believe it was somebody who said, 'Right this way, Miss Queen,'" Thea drawled, her eyes daring him to say more. It's a familiar look. She always had been stubborn.

"You shouldn't be here," Oliver said anyway, his anger clear in his voice.

Thea's eyes suddenly seemed to focus and sharpen, her mouth twisting. "I'm not twelve anymore."

"No. You're seventeen," he responded shortly. He didn't need the reminder of how much things had changed.

"Ollie, I-I love you, but you can't come back here and judge me, especially for being just like you," Thea said, some mix of anger and tears in her voice that makes Oliver's anger fade slightly. He wasn't sure what to say.

"I know that it couldn't have been easy for you when I was... away," he tried.

"Away?" Thea said, laughing bitterly. Pythios joined her. "No. You died. My brother and my father died. I went to your funerals."

Oliver flinched. Bellona leaned against his leg, her eyes fixed intently on Thea's face. "I know."

"No, you don't," Thea snapped. "Mom had Walter, and I had no one other than Pythios. You guys all act like it's cool, let's forget about the last five years. Well, I can't. For me, it's kind of permanently in there, so I'm sorry if I turned out some major disappointment, but this... me is the best I could do with what I had to work with."

She turned on her heel and stalked away with her friends. Oliver and Bellona watched her go, Oliver turning the bag of drugs he lifted off of her in his fingers. Bellona sighed after a moment and nudged him with her head. He smiled slightly down at her, filed the issue of Thea in the back of his mind to deal with later, and dropped the drugs in the nearest trash.

And then Laurel was there.

There was something about the relief of the quiet on the observatory floor where to go to talk along with his frayed nerves from the club and his encounter with Thea that renders him momentarily incapable of putting on a mask in front of Laurel, whose photo he kept for years to remind him of what he needed to keep going for.

"I'm sorry about saying that you should have been the one who died," Laurel said, hesitantly, but genuinely. "That was wrong."

"If I could trade places with her, I would," Oliver replied softly. Even though Laurel didn't know the full story, it was still an honest statement.

"About Sarah... there's something that I've been afraid to ask, but I need to know." Oliver knew what was coming, but he agreed to her question anyway. Laurel took a deep breath. "When she died... did she suffer?"

Unbidden images of Sara flashed into Oliver's mind, making him tense involuntarily. Sara screaming, the ocean ripping her away-

"No," Bellona said for him. Laurel stared at her for a moment while Oliver forced the images away from the forefront of his mind.

"I think about her every day," Laurel said after a few beats of silence.

"Me too," Oliver said softly, his fingers automatically going to touch Bellona's fur for comfort.

"I guess we still have one thing in common then," Laurel said, only a faint trace of the anger he deserved present in her tone. Kazimir shook his shoulders, feathers rustling. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but...If you need someone to talk to about what happened to you, I'm here."

Oliver considered that for about two seconds before he imagined her horror if he told her even a fraction of what had happened. He was glad when his cell phone vibrated with the alarm he set for 10:00, saving him from having to reply. Laurel asked what was wrong, and he replied with something that was vague but close to the truth. He needed to leave, and he needed to remind himself that emotional connections only made you weak and those you love vulnerable. He needed Laurel to go back to hating him.

"You always saw the best in me. Right now, that's what you're doing, looking at me, and you're wondering if that island changed me somehow, if it made me a better person," He thought he saw a small, dim light of hope in her eyes. He clenched his fists and continued coldly. "It didn't. Stay away from me. Otherwise...I'm just gonna hurt you again, but this time, it'll be worse." Oliver flashed the most carefree smile he could manage. "Gotta roll. I got five years of debauchery to catch up on."

He saw a flash of anger in her eyes. _Good._ She stalked toward him. Kazimir took off and fluttered around her head like a tongue of flame.

"You know what, Oliver?" She spat."You're wrong. That island did change you. At least now you're honest."

 

* * *

 

"Starling City police! The party's over, kids." Lance's voice was loud and his eyes were hard as he strode into the club, climbing onto the raised platform that Oliver and Tommy stood together on. Oliver had to concentrate to prevent himself from visibly reacting to the waves of hostility that practically radiate off of the detective.

"Oh, Mr. Merlyn," Lance said sardonically. "Imagine my shock at finding you here. Did you roofie anyone special tonight, huh?"

Oliver interrupted before Lance could go any further, his voice full of false cheer. "Detective! It's a private party."

"Yeah?" Lance turned to Oliver. "Well, there was an incident at Adam Hunt's building tonight. You know anything about that?"

"Who's Adam Hunt?" Oliver asked, widening his eyes in fake ignorance. Bellona stepped on his foot a bit to remind him not to overdo the act.

"He's a millionaire bottom feeder, and I'm kind of surprised you aren't friends," Lance replied without missing a beat.

"I've been out of town for... a while."

"Well, he just got attacked by the guy with the hood, the guy that saved your ass the other day."

"The hood guy. You didn't find him?" Oliver needed to take Lance's focus off of connecting him and "the hood guy", distract him with images of the obnoxious playboy Lance believed him to be. "I'm gonna offer a reward. Hey, everybody!" He shouted to the attentive crowd. "Two million to anybody that can find a nut bar in a green hood!" They cheered as he turned back to Lance, grinning.

Unexpectedly, Lance dropped all pretense of professionalism. He leaned in to Oliver. "Did you even try to save her?"

Oliver, Bellona, Detective Hilton, and even Lance's daemon collectively flinched at the sharp words.

It took both Butch and Hilton's quiet, calm urging to get Lance to leave, even after he repeated the question over again and Oliver's fists clenched, his fingernails digging crescents into his palms. After Lance left, Oliver forced a carefree smile back on his face to reassure the too-quiet crowd. It only took a sentence or two to bring their focus back to dancing and getting drunk.

"Some coincidence," Tommy said, sidling up to Oliver. Desi briefly touched her nose to Bellona's. "I mean, you asking to have your party here, and Hunt getting robbed right next door- and by the same guy who rescued us at the warehouse."

"If I were you, Tommy, I'd just be glad you're alive," Oliver said wearily, not looking at his friend. Tommy paused.

"What happened to you on that island?" Tommy asked. At their feet, Desi whined.

"A lot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! More works are coming in this series (that'll be less like rewrites of episodes and more original stories), so keep an eye out.


End file.
